The Kid Icarus
by Sweet Reichel
Summary: ."I was born from Mercy and Faith. Yes, I do have a mother and a father, but I can only affirm that because the High Priest told me my story." Pit's PoV.


**Summary.** I was born from Mercy and Faith. Yes, I do have a mother and a father, but I can only affirm that because the High Priest told me my story. Pit's PoV.

**Author's Note:** Here I am, a Mexican girl, writing yet another fic in English. I hope I don't bother you with many mistakes. Reviews are appreciated!

_Special thanks to xXOngakuXx who helped me beta-reading this._

-x-

I was born from Mercy and Faith.

Yes, I do have a mother and a father—at least in the biological sense. Yet, I can only affirm that because the High Priest told me my story.

My mother's life and mine were hanging from a thread when the time of my birth came close. My father made a wise decision; he didn't stay with us but went to Goddess Palutena's Temple. He prayed for days, without eating, without sleeping. He was still there when he heard that my mother and I were alive.

But there was a one little thing, a little problem… my father had made a promise, and he would not break it.

When I reached my third year of life I departed from my parents. What happened in those three years, I do not remember. I cannot say at this time if I resemble my mother or my father because I don't remember their faces; nor can I remember if I had any siblings. I don't even know what it was like when I left; when I went to render my life to the one that had given it to me in the first place. I would be a priest for the Goddess.

Since then I have dwelled in Her Sanctuary.

The first thing I learned was to thank the Goddess for my life. I didn't matter that I no longer had a family, it didn't matter that I would never be able to leave the Temple, it didn't matter that I was just a little more than a useless angel.

Now I thank her sincerely, but back then I just couldn't understand _why_.

The first years in the Sanctuary went well. I was just a child, everything was enjoyable. I studied and was in charge of very simple chores. Nevertheless, after some time, I joined the novices, them who were preparing themselves to become the Sons and Daughters of Palutena—the priests and priestesses.

That's when I started to pity myself.

Compared to my mates in this long run, I had nothing. Not any possessions, not a family—they were born into and bred by rich families. But to tell the truth, what bothered me the most was that my wings didn't work.

They were small, weak wings that couldn't even bear my own weight. They still are. An angel without wings—which is basically my situation—it's like a siren without her fin, or a wizard without his magic. An angel without wings is confined to Angel Land for good. So, there you have my panorama: even if I ever was able to get out of the Temple, I could never leave the heavens… I could never know what the country of the _wingless angels_ was like.

Funny, right? I said that an angel without wings is useless, and it is precisely what we call humans: wingless angels. Useless angels. Fallen angels that were never able to take off again…

However, despite of how hopeless we picture humans, their world is exciting to us. Adventure. Here it is not exactly what one would call Paradise; we've got our life and our problems too. But it is quite boring, once you get used to routine.

While, on the contrary, down there they've got…well, bigger things to think about. Down there you're measured by the strength of your mind and heart; not by the power you've got but by _what you do with it_. It sounded just like what I needed.

For instance, we are so interested in humans that we even adopted some of their myths and legends as fables we teach to our kids. Most of them are very didactic. For others you can find a different use, just as the novices did.

They chose my nickname out of one of those stories… I was called _the kid Icarus_. I'm sure you know the myth, and if you don't, then go read it. Afterwards tell me if you wouldn't feel humiliated too.

I _was_ the kid Icarus! The boy whose wings were fake, whose wings would fail! The boy whose wings would never take him to the sun…

I was just a kid. At that time my perspective was very narrow, but soon it would rapidly change and widen.

The powers of evil were rising while I was worrying about trifles.

Surely there was something wrong with me, and I'm not talking about my wings. I'm talking about the way I am. I felt many things: anger, disappointment, envy, contempt… But I never felt cowardice, I never felt like giving up. I needed to prove what I knew I was capable of. I needed to prove my greatness. So in the trainings, in the classes, in the religious ceremonies I tried my best, even in spite of my mates' mocks. It is true that I never fought them—I was under the protection of the High Priest and I was fond of him, so I tried to never get in trouble. All of my resentment I channeled it into my efforts to succeed.

Then, when I was twelve, I saw the face of the Goddess for the first time.

After an unbelievably bad day I went to Her Temple and prayed, crying and screaming. I danced in order to praise Her and then I made an offering to Her. I calmed down and went through the back portal. When I looked back before turning around the corner I saw Goddess Palutena descending to Her shrine, smiling at me. I felt afraid and left. I never told anyone.

Shortly after that, one night, the evil forces reached Angel Land and attacked. Many were killed, some remained fighting and a few were dragged to the Underworld. I was between the last; the High Priest was one of the first.

We, the prisoners, were trapped in the deepest part of the Underworld. We were chosen because we were special to Goddess Palutena: priests and priestesses, some soldiers, prophets and magicians. Torturing us was a way to entertain and praise the 'Goddess' of Darkness, Medusa. Most of us died in a few days' time. But some of us remained… and fought.

I do not want to tell you that story, because you may have already heard it or will hear of it someday. It was the least I could've done: survive.

I returned to Angel Land known as a hero, though few of the people I knew lived to see it. I was given a military title and became the High Priest. Some still have trouble with my age and my 'flying handicap', but none can disfavor my performance in either role. I have directed military campaigns to protect Angel Land and I will as long as I'm able too, and I have served my Goddess as good as I can, trying to be Her best Son and a good spiritual leader for my people.

Now I know the Underworld, the Earth and the Skyworld. I'm in the place where I deserve to be, doing what I was born to.

And I can say that is the most anyone could ask for.


End file.
